Deliverance by amy lin
I.
i still wore my screams,
forearms wrapped in red ribbon,
tangled locks of hair.
trembled when i saw
your black eyes glitter, my face
tattooed with your flames.
you fell on the blood-
stained earth once. begged for love you’d
never given me.
​
II.
they said you wanted
to see me. i’d flown away—
was winter so soon?
but i still went to
see you in your paper gown,
held your leather hands,
heard your raspy voice,
flinched as our gazes touched—
i could not stay long.
​
III.
gray powder spilled out
the jar i carried, heavy
like a thousand bricks.
i watched as you sank
beneath the waves that collapsed
over my fingers.
salt-stained eyes closed, and
a tender wind kissed my cheeks.
i stood in silence.
Amy Lin (she/her) is a young Chinese-American writer from New Jersey. When she is not writing, you can find her enjoying word puzzles, painting, and eating home-cooked meals.